After the Kino
by Crushakitty
Summary: Hans Landa and Dieter Hellstrom get to know each other better after a night at the cinema. Landa/Hellstrom slash
1. Chapter 1

_So here is my first attempt at Landa/Hellstrom slash. Unsurprisingly, this story will contain mature content as it progresses! I would deeply appreciate anyone who is kind enough to take the time to review, I will certainly respond to anyone who is good enough to do so._

_My deepest appreciation and gratitude to DeborahKLA who kindly did the betaing for this story. _

_Glossary: Sturmbannführer _= Major  
_Standartenführer _= Colonel_  
Schütze _= Private

* * *

Sturmbannführer Hellstrom was nearly shaking with rage as he left the café. The swaggering confidence of Schütze Zoller, who walked slightly ahead, only fuelled the fire. The arrogant, offensive young fool! To speak to Standartenführer Landa in that questioning manner was completely unacceptable. Dieter Hellstrom was a well disciplined member of the Gestapo; he had been trained to fear his superiors and never argue or question their judgement. To see Schütze Zoller challenge the Standartenführer's actions so openly was an outrage against the very standards Hellstrom held most dear. He knew he had to be careful, since Zoller was the current favourite of Reichsminister Goebbels, but he was determined that Zoller's insolence would not go unnoticed. As they exited the cafe, he seized the opportunity to tackle the Schütze whilst his annoyance was still fresh.

"Schütze? A word, please."

Zoller stepped forward to where Hellstrom stood stiffly, an enquiring smile on his face. Hellstrom returned it with a stony glare; this overly confident boy had clearly forgotten his position within the ranks and lost all sense of respect. Hellstrom stepped a little closer, keen to impose his authority upon Zoller.

"You questioned the actions of the Standartenführer in there" he said quietly, purposely clipping every syllable carefully to emphasise the words.

"I did not mean to offend Standartenführer Landa" Zoller began "I merely..."

"You will address me as 'Sturmbannführer', Schütze," Hellstrom spat, his anger boiling over. "And I am not interested in what you were 'merely' doing. May I remind you that, although Reichsminister Goebbels clearly believes you are special, I do not. You may be a film star, but we still expect that you understand your rank and place. You will never again question the actions of Standartenführer Landa or any other superior. Do I make myself clear?"

"Ja Sturmbannführer" Zoller replied, a slightly insolent look in his eye.

Hellstrom knew this was the best he was going to get. "Get out of my sight now, Schütze," he said, "before you offend anyone else, and certainly before Standartenführer Landa returns."

Zoller walked away, face reddening and fists clenched. Hellstrom watched him leave and felt satisfied. As a Sturmbannführer, he could not possibly allow such outright insolence to go without a reprimand. He was angry with Zoller for speaking out of turn because of his rank, but also outraged that anyone would speak to Standartenführer Landa in such an openly questioning manner. Hellstrom himself had never met Landa on a personal basis, but like every German officer stationed in France, he knew him by reputation through the many stories about him. Hellstrom had seen him briefly at meetings or gatherings of senior officers. He had never had the opportunity to speak to him. Unlike others, he recognised the power of Landa's reputation and would never dare to openly question any of his actions. To see such questioning from a mere Schütze had been quite intolerable to Hellstrom's sense of respect for senior officers. Privately, Hellstrom was also angered that an arrogant non-entity like Zoller had the opportunity to speak to Landa before a man of his rank. Hellstrom had worked hard for many years to attain his position in the Gestapo. He couldn't accept that a Schütze who had made his name through showy heroics was more highly regarded than those who had worked hard to rise through the ranks.

Hellstrom suddenly noticed that Reichsminister Goebbels was approaching him and immediately stood bolt upright, keen to impress.

"I must thank you, Sturmbannführer, for your swift delivery of Mademoiselle Mimieux," Goebbels said, puffing lazily on a cigarette. "Schütze Zoller was most insistent that I meet her."

"It was a pleasure, Herr Reichsminister," Hellstrom replied.

Goebbels leant closer, clearly keen to speak without Zoller overhearing.

"I see you felt the need to speak to the young Schütze after we left," he said.

Hellstrom flushed slightly. "I am sure you understand, Herr Reichsminister," he said stiffly, "that one of my duties is to ensure order is maintained within the ranks. I could not allow a Schütze to question the actions of a Standartenführer without reprimanding him."

Goebbels nonchalantly waved his hand. "Absolutely, Sturmbannführer," he replied. "I must confess that Zoller has more liberties than most Schützen in the German army, and that is partly my fault. I do tend to indulge his every whim. But I perfectly appreciate that a man of your rank cannot allow inappropriate behaviour to go unnoticed. A lack of discipline is bad for morale."

"Danke, Herr Reichsminister," Hellstrom replied, relieved that the dressing down of his favourite Schütze had not angered Goebbels.

Goebbels gestured towards his chauffeur driven car. "Are you travelling with us, Sturmbannführer?" he asked.

"Nein, Herr Reichsminister," Hellstrom replied. "I need to finalise a few matters with Standartenführer Landa before I leave."

Goebbels dropped his cigarette to the floor and glanced backwards towards the doorway of the cafe. He caught Hellstrom's eye and laughed knowingly with an exaggerated rise of his eyebrows, clearly believing Hellstrom to be harbouring the same thoughts as he.

"Landa has remained inside with Mademoiselle Mimieux for quite some time now," Goebbels said, his voice ringing with suggestive anticipation. "Is it possible that the Standartenführer is making good use his of famous charm?"

Hellstrom smiled politely at the question, but tried to block out the unpleasant image filling his mind. He felt a sudden surge of dislike towards Mlle. Emmanuel Mimieux, a brazen faced hussy of a woman, unworthy of the attentions of an SS Standartenführer.

Goebbels continued, clearly unaware of the Sturmbannführer's discomfort. "I've never known a man as successful as Hans," he said, shaking his head with theatrical disbelief. "The list of women he has bedded is quite remarkable. If only he would share his secrets with us, eh Sturmbannführer?"

Hellstrom forced a laugh as Goebbels slapped his shoulder, although his entire body was rigid with the usual awkwardness he felt when discussing women with other men.

Goebbels saw that his car was ready and walked towards it. He turned once more towards Dieter Hellstrom.

"See you tonight at the cinema, Sturmbannführer," he said before entering the vehicle with his companions and driving away.

Now that he was alone, Hellstrom suddenly had a knot of tension in his stomach. All he wanted was to speak to Landa, to assure him that the rudeness of Schütze Zoller had not gone unnoticed. But the sudden reality of speaking to him one-to-one was immensely intimidating.

Before he had a chance to change his mind, a figure in SS uniform exited the cafe swiftly. Hellstrom's breathe caught in his throat as he realised that the time had come for him to speak to Landa.

"Herr Standartenführer," he said clearly, his voice not betraying the nerves he felt.

Landa turned to face the Sturmbannführer, his eyes boring immediately into his face. Hellstrom had to force himself not to exclaim out loud. The Standartenführer was shorter than he, but an immensely handsome and striking man. His hazel eyes burned with enquiring interest at the person who had addressed him by rank, then ignited with a curious fire when he saw who was speaking to him.

Landa narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment before approaching Hellstrom.

"It's Sturmbannführer Hellstrom, is it not?" he asked, extending his hand to the nervous young man who stood before him.

"Ja Standartenführer" Hellstrom replied, hesitating briefly before accepting the hand in his own which gripped tightly against his wrist.

"It is nice to finally meet you, Sturmbannführer," Landa said, releasing Hellstrom's hand. "I have heard a great deal about you from various senior members of both the SS and Gestapo."

Hellstrom swelled with pride; the famous Hans Landa had actually heard of him! Hellstrom had always been an ambitious man and to know that he was talked about amongst senior members of the Nazi party thrilled him considerably.

"Danke, Herr Standartenführer," he replied briskly, keen to ensure the Standartenführer recognised that he was indeed a man worthy of any good word said about him. Landa's eyes had settled on the Sturmbannführer and were slowly moving over his entire physique, taking in every inch of the man standing before him. He worked his way back to the Sturmbannführer's face before fixing him with a quizzical look, clearly wanting to know what matter was to be discussed.

"I wanted to speak to you, Standartenführer," Hellstrom said, "about Schütze Zoller. I believe you should be aware that I have reprimanded him for the way he publicly questioned your actions in front of Mademoiselle Mimieux."

Landa raised an amused eyebrow and grinned at Sturmbannführer Hellstrom, who shifted with mild embarrassment, slightly taken aback by the Standartenführer's response.

"So I need to therefore attribute the defense of my name and rank against the insubordination of Schütze Zoller to you, Sturmbannführer," he said.

"Not quite Standartenführer..." Hellstrom began before Landa waved a hand to silence him.

"No, I insist. It seems that I owe you thanks, Sturmbannführer, for reprimanding the likes of our friend Zoller."

Landa's face grew darker at the mention of Zoller, his Viennese accent curling aggressively around the syllables of the name. He took one step closer, and Hellstrom's breathe caught in his chest. He was more than intimidated by the sudden proximity of the Standartenführer.

"I suspect," Landa said in a low and confidential tone, "that Schütze Zoller feared I would attempt to seduce the beautiful Mademoiselle Mimieux, for whom I believe he has developed a certain tenderness. She is a most attractive young woman, do you not agree Sturmbannführer?"

Hellstrom hesitated visibly, unable to react quickly under the intense stare of the Standartenführer. All his life he had become adept at falsifying his appreciation of women, comfortably rolling off countless lies about his attraction to certain females, all to conceal his true desires from his colleagues and friends. Hellstrom had always prided himself on his unquestioning obedience as a soldier, and it was his rapid responses that saved him when confronted with the awkward question of women. His well rehearsed lies about the women he desired normally fell easily from his lips when told to male colleagues whom he secretly desired physically more than any woman he had ever met. He couldn't understand why his natural ability to lie about his preferences seemed to be failing under the gaze of Standartenführer Landa.

"She is an exceptionally lovely and fascinating creature," Landa continued, before taking yet another step closer to speak quietly into Hellstrom's ear. "I do not mind telling you, Sturmbannführer, that I considered arranging to meet her this evening during the premiere for a little rendezvous."

Hellstrom's eyes met Landa's. The amused expression in the Standartenführer's eyes remained; Hellstrom was unsure how to react. He had the strange sensation that he was somehow being tested by Landa, who seemed to be eagerly awaiting the response he had provoked. As the Sturmbannführer carefully formulated his answer, he couldn't help but take the opportunity to voyeuristically gaze at Landa's stunning facial features. The Standartenführer had beautiful bright eyes, a strong jaw line, and a masculine glow which provoked a powerful stab of desire in Hellstrom's abdomen. He had never before met a man to whom he felt such an instant attraction.

"She is a very attractive lady Standartenführer" Hellstrom replied, unable to entirely erase the tone of insincerity out of his voice.

Landa grinned happily; clearly Hellstrom's response had pleased him.

"Am I right in assuming, Sturmbannführer, that I will see you tonight at the film screening?"

"Ja, Standartenführer," Hellstrom replied. "My duties require that I attend the screening to help judge the appropriateness of Mademoiselle Mimieux's cinema."

Landa smiled happily.

"Well, Sturmbannführer, you will also see me there," he said, grinning widely. "Perhaps if you are not too busy elsewhere, you could assist me in the necessary security checks I must perform tonight before the premiere."

Hellstrom's chest knotted with excitement; surely not the opportunity to work alongside Standartenführer Landa? He had always wanted to meet Landa, but now that he had finally done so, he wanted nothing more than the chance to spend time in this man's company. His physical features and radiating charisma made him easily one of the most enticing men Hellstrom had ever met; he felt quite giddy merely in his presence.

Landa took the expression of bug-eyed surprise as a positive response. He extended his hand once more to the Major who took it more firmly this time, their eyes meeting in a mutually unspoken sense of anticipation.

"Until tonight, Sturmbannführer," Landa said quietly, squeezing Hellstrom's hand lightly before releasing it. He turned swiftly on his heel and, without looking back, strode away. Hellstrom gazed longingly at the elegant and strangely beautiful figure walking away from him, his eyes hypnotised by the graceful movement of the Standartenführer's body as it grew smaller in the distance. Hellstrom's entire body tingled with excited anticipation as he nervously looked forward to spending time in the presence of the famous Standartenführer Hans Landa.


	2. Chapter 2

_Part 2 of 4 of my Landa/Hellstrom slash. Thankyou to my kind friends on other sites who have complimented this story so far, once again please take the time to review as it would be hugely appreciated._

_Warning! The MA rating of this story begins to kick in here so please be aware of some sexual content. _

_All characters are the creation of Quentin Tarantino and this story is simply designed to entertain._

_My thanks again to DeborahKLA for her beta_

* * *

Hellstrom arrived early for the film screening; he had never arrived late anywhere in his entire life. Emmanuelle Mimieux let him into the foyer with an ill-disguised scowl, which he returned with added menace. He found her just as irritating as Frederick Zoller, and the way in which she had attracted Landa's attentions certainly did nothing to endear her further. Whilst waiting for the other guests, Hellstrom took the opportunity to peruse the cinema lobby. He could not deny it was an attractive place and considerably easier to handle in terms of security when compared to the larger and more structurally complex Ritz. He was careful not to reveal his secret admiration in his facial expressions, adamant that Mlle. Mimieux not be aware of how impressed he was with her venue.

The other screening guests arrived shortly thereafter. Hellstrom greeted them politely and efficiently, although he was unable to relax in his keenness to see Landa again. He had not stopped thinking about the dashing Standartenführer since their brief conversation that afternoon, the firm grip of his hand on Hellstrom's still lingering on his skin. It was as he turned away from the entrance to the cinema to speak to Goebbels that an eloquent voice from behind alerted him that Landa had finally arrived.

"I apologise for not being here earlier," Landa announced. "I sincerely hope I have kept no one waiting."

Hellstrom turned to face the Standartenführer and let out a tiny involuntarily gasp which he successfully disguised as a cough. Landa was attired in his day uniform, the stiff material skimming his taut body in a perfect fit. His boots shone from a fresh coat of polish and he wore thick black leather gloves. As he moved forward, the long leather coat, which ran the length of his body, swished silently, the hem gently brushing against the sides of his boots. It was all Hellstrom could do to silently suppress the pounding desire that flooded his veins. This man was so impossibly handsome, so physically desirable; he made Hellstrom's legs weak with pleasure and his face burn with lust.

He quickly switched his openly admiring gaze to one of passive neutrality as Landa's eyes fell on him, although he sensed from the sly grin spreading over the Standartenführer's face that he had reacted a second too late. Landa said nothing to him but instead focussed his attention on Goebbels, chatting away in a professional manner, discussing the arrangements for the evening. Hellstrom prayed that Landa's suggestion that he should assist him had not simply been part of polite conversation. More than anything else he wanted the chance to work alongside this man he craved so deeply.

It seemed that luck was on Hellstrom's side that night. Goebbels beckoned him over as the other guests began making their way into the cinema's theatre.

"If it is agreeable with you, Sturmbannführer," Goebbels said, "I think it would be more productive if you assisted Standartenführer Landa with his security checks whilst we watch the film and assess Mademoiselle Mimieux's cinema."

Hellstrom could barely disguise his joy at being allowed to work alone alongside Landa rather than endure another tedious offering of the German film industry. Hellstrom's life had always been so dominated by his professional ambitions that he regarded much of the art world as a complete waste of time, dismissing the cinema as simply a place where idle people frittered away the day. He marched smartly towards Landa, who was waiting for him at the doorway, forcing himself to remain calm and retain a professional facade in the presence of the Standartenführer. Landa was leaning lazily against the doorframe, an excited glint in his eye and one eyebrow raised in questioning anticipation.

"I hope I have not deprived you of an evening of entertainment, Sturmbannführer," Landa said, his voice laced with sarcasm, his face a mask of mock concern.

Hellstrom could not resist returning the question with a tiny smile.

"Nein, Standartenführer," he said. "I feel my time would be better spent assisting you in your security checks."

Landa pulled himself away from the doorframe and nodded his head briskly.

"Then let us begin," he said, pleased to have a willing companion accompany him whilst he worked.

It didn't take Hellstrom long to see why Landa enjoyed having a young, interested person trailing after him as he worked. The Standartenführer was quite clearly a natural show off, carrying out his painstaking examination of the entire cinema building to identify areas of security concern with a flamboyance and edge of theatricality clearly for Hellstrom's benefit. Landa chatted away incessantly as he worked, explaining everything he was doing and justifying the security decisions he was making. Like a doggedly devoted pupil in the presence of his most revered teacher, Hellstrom eagerly absorbed Landa's every word, keen to learn from such a knowledgeable and competent man, but also revelling in the private performance which Landa was clearly putting on especially for him.

The more Hellstrom listened intently, the more pleasure Landa seemed to derive from the running commentary he provided, his ego clearly massaged by the undivided attention he was receiving. As the evening's work wore on, Hellstrom began to sink further into the aura of Landa's presence, his mind wandering to other aspects of the Standartenführer's person that interested him. His eyes were constantly drawn to Landa's hands, which he used extensively as he spoke, expressing and emphasising his points with forceful movements and gestures. He still wore the black leather gloves, which also intrigued Hellstrom. The shiny leather was attractive, but Hellstrom secretly wished he would take off the gloves so he could see the man's hands, which he'd imagined touching his body ever since Landa had begun his lecture.

"You're very quiet, Sturmbannführer," Landa said suddenly.

Hellstrom jolted slightly, taken aback by the question.

"Sorry, Standartenführer," he responded. He hesitated slightly before continuing. "Forgive me, but it is such an honour to see how a man such as yourself works that I didn't want to interrupt."

Hellstrom felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment but was relieved to see that Landa had a soft and slightly amused smile on his face.

"And what exactly is 'a man such as' myself, Dieter?" Landa asked softly.

Hellstrom froze at hearing Landa use his first name. He had no idea how he knew it. His eyes met Landa's and for a moment they simply stared at each other, Hellstrom's infatuated gaze locking with Landa's enquiring one.

"I mean a man of your professional reputation, Standartenführer," Hellstrom finally said. "It isn't often that one has the opportunity to learn from one of the finest officers in his field."

Landa chuckled softly. "Well, you really are flattering me tonight, Dieter," he said, his voice ringing with ill-disguised pleasure. "We must check the exterior walls of the cinema before the film finishes, but I sincerely wish to hear some of your thoughts whilst we do it."

Landa exited the front door of the cinema and Hellstrom followed, nervously wondering how his assessment of the security situation would match up to the fierce intelligence of the Standartenführer. The night was very dark but the air was warm, a slight breeze blowing gently as they walked alongside the walls of the building. Hellstrom struggled to see Landa clearly as they began to move around to the back of the cinema, where the darkness was almost impenetrable. He focused on the hazy silhouette of Landa's hat, which was barely visible in the night, and continued to follow his lead.

When they reached the back of the building, Landa flicked on a small torch and began to move it over the fencing which ran alongside the back of the building. Hellstrom wondered why he had not switched it on before.

"Well, Dieter?" Landa asked, the use of his first name again unnerving Hellstrom, "can you see any vulnerable areas where an intruder could break through?"

Hellstrom followed the line of the torchlight, trying to focus hard on the task in hand.

"Stop!" he said suddenly, spotting a chink of vulnerability in the fence. The hand holding the torch froze and Landa waited patiently for Hellstrom to explain what he had identified.

"That point there, Standartenführer, does it look damaged to you? Like a person could break through it?"

"Where, Dieter?" said Landa, moving the torch around slightly to examine the fence.

"There, Standartenführer," Hellstrom said again, spotting the area he was talking about.

Still Landa failed to see what he saw.

"Come closer Dieter, point so I can see where you mean".

Hellstrom tensed, telling himself that he had not misunderstood the slightly suggestive tone in the Standartenführer's voice. Hellstrom's desire for Landa was by now so painful that he feared his proximity. The powerful aura of Landa's presence was almost too strong to bear. He gingerly took a single step towards the hazy outline of Landa's body, and pointed a shaking hand at the fence. Landa followed his finger but was still not entirely sure.

"Let me see from your line of vision," Landa said, striding forward without warning and standing right next to Hellstrom before gently placing his hand in the small of his back and moving his face close to his in order to share the focus of his eyes.

Hellstrom jolted violently at Landa's touch; he felt as though a bolt of lightning had pulsated through his body. He uttered a gasp as the sudden movement gently brushed his cheek against Landa's. He could feel the rough evening stubble against his skin. They stood in complete silence, Hellstrom hardly daring to breathe as he realised how Landa was likely to interpret his physical reaction to his touch. His face was so close to Landa's that he could feel the warmth of his skin barely inches away from his cheek. His throat seized up even further when Landa let out a slight chuckle and moved his lips to Hellstrom's ear.

"So, the truth at last," Landa whispered breathlessly, his lips brushing against Hellstrom's earlobe, sending a bolt of fire down his neck. "I think perhaps now I know why you were so keen to miss the film."


	3. Chapter 3

_Part 3 of 4 of this Landa/Hellstrom slash._

_My thanks to my kind friends who have complimented this so far._

_Thanks again to DeborahKLA for her Beta._

_WARNING! That M rating is kicking in so please do not read if you are offended by sexual content._

_All characters are copyright of Quentin Tarantino, this story is merely designed to entertain._

* * *

Hellstrom's blind panic as he considered how he should excuse his actions disappeared in an instant when Landa's hot mouth sank into the flesh at his throat. He cried out in shock and pain, involuntarily pulling away from Landa in disbelief. It was too dark to see Landa's face, but he could see the outline of his body slowly striding towards him. Hellstrom's breathing grew shallow as panic gripped him and he stepped back, feeling his body hit the strong fence which surrounded the cinema. He had nowhere else to go. Landa advanced, slowly edging his way closer, until he was once again inches from Dieter's face. Dieter had never experienced such an overwhelming, intoxicating extreme of emotions; his fear at what Landa was about to do coupled with the burning desire that ignited the moment Landa's lips touched his skin.

Landa reached out with both hands, placed them gently but firmly flat against Hellstrom's abdomen. Dieter clenched up against them, barely able to breathe through his tight throat. Landa's voice had changed when he spoke again; it now had a deeper and clearly seductive tone that went straight to Hellstrom's head and made him dizzy.

"Oh Dieter, are you trying to run away from me?" were his teasing words. "I cannot imagine why. Something tells me you have been hoping I would touch you from the moment we met."

Hellstrom couldn't speak, his disbelief that the man he had developed such an intense attraction to appeared to want him with equal hunger. Landa's voice came again in the dark, even huskier and quieter than before.

"Do you want me to touch you, Dieter?" he asked.

It was with an almost pathetic beg that Hellstrom was able to utter, "yes."

Landa's hands slid firmly up from Hellstrom's stomach, sliding over his chest towards his neck. He stroked the smooth line of his throat, his fingertips brushing the ends of his hair before playfully flicking his delicate earlobe. Hellstrom closed his eyes and luxuriated in the leather clad hands running along his jaw line and chin and then gently stroking his lips, prising his mouth open. Hellstrom gasped loudly in surprise as Landa inserted two of his gloved fingers into his mouth; Landa hushed him to be quiet, gesturing up at an overhead window. The faint glow of light suggested it was the projection room where Mademoiselle Mimieux was running the film. The gloved fingers began to slide slowly in and out of Hellstrom's mouth, gently coating his lips with his own saliva. He inhaled deeply and explored the moving digits with his tongue, enjoying the scent and taste of the leather gloves filling his mouth. He heard Landa's breathing deepen and his fingers began to move faster, sliding slightly deeper into the back of Hellstrom's throat.

"Oh, you are enjoying this aren't you?" he said, his voice taut and strained with excitement. "I know you just can't wait until you're sucking my cock like this."

He moved forward to press himself against Hellstrom's body, his lips finding his neck whilst his free hand gripped him forcefully between the legs. Hellstrom bit down hard on Landa's fingers to stop himself crying out. If Landa felt any pain, he didn't react. Instead he kissed Dieter's neck lightly, slowly opening his mouth and nipping gently at the skin as his hand firmly rubbed Dieter's erect cock through his trousers. Hellstrom sighed with pleasure as Landa's free hand snaked again up his abdomen and to his chest where he loosened the Sturmbannführer's tie and gently undid his top button, playfully stroking the tiny patch of exposed flesh around his neckline. Hellstrom was more than aware of how painfully erect he was becoming as Landa forcefully stroked the flesh between his legs. Landa groaned softly against Hellstrom's neck as his hand left his groin and moved upwards to Dieter's belt, which he slowly began to unbuckle. Hellstrom could hardly contain his excitement, and his breath was reduced to a series of involuntary pants in his anticipation of Landa's leather-clad hand on his cock.

"Standartenführer Landa? Sturmbannführer Hellstrom?"

Landa reacted like lightning at the voice in the night. He released his grip on Hellstrom so instantaneously one might have thought he had received an electric shock. Without uttering a word to Hellstrom, he straightened his coat and rubbed his gloves against the sides of his clothing, presumably removing any traces of the younger man's saliva. Hellstrom was struck more with panic than with Landa's enviable calm, and he frantically re-buckled his belt and quickly wiped his face and neck to remove any traces of Landa's hot mouth. His legs were weak and his chest still quivered with shock at what had just happened between him and a senior officer. Landa seemed entirely unfazed and relaxed, as if the previous minutes hadn't even happened. Hellstrom was a bag of nerves as they walked away from their secluded location behind the cinema to where the rest of the screening party stood by the entrance, waiting for them.

"Ah, Landa!" Goebbels exclaimed enthusiastically as they came into view. "We wondered where you had disappeared to."

"Just completing out security checks of the building Reichsminister Goebbels," Landa replied smoothly. "One cannot be too careful when certain guests are rumoured to attend."

Goebbels laughed knowingly at Landa, but Hellstrom barely noticed. His attention was drawn to Frederick Zoller. The boy was staring at him slyly, his eyes fixed on the centre of Hellstrom's chest. Hellstrom felt indignant until he realised with crushing embarrassment that he had failed to fasten the tie and shirt buttons that Landa had undone. As discreetly as possible, Hellstrom turned away to tidy himself without Zoller seeing, furious that Zoller was blatant enough to play with his emotions but also fearful that the Schütze was clearly aware of what had been going on moments beforehand. The boy was not stupid. He had obviously noticed both Hellstrom's dishevelled clothing and his nervous demeanour, and had concluded that some form of intimacy had occurred.

The small party seemed to be breaking up and parting for the night. Hellstrom had consigned himself to returning home alone before a voice in his ear sent shivers of excitement down his spine.

"Sturmbannführer Hellstrom," Standartenführer Landa said softly, "my townhouse is extremely nearby. As a way of thanking you for your assistance, would you care to join me in a late night drink before retiring?"

Their eyes met in unspoken understanding before Hellstrom's trembling excitement was shattered by the unwelcome voice that followed.

"What a wonderful idea, Hans! I assume the invitation applies to everyone?" Goebbels said, clearly having overheard every word.

Landa gave a deep and sardonic bow, hiding any disappointment Hellstrom suspected he might harbour.

"Herr Reichsminister, it would be a true honour," he said. "It goes without saying that naturally, the invite extends to everyone."

Hellstrom was sure he had never experienced such a crushing disappointment in his life. His body ached with the need for Landa to resume his touches. To have the opportunity offered and then so quickly dashed was a bitter blow.

Goebbels insisted that they all travel via his chauffeur driven car. Hellstrom sat in fuming silence in the back, his mood not improved by the fact that he was uncomfortably squashed next to Schütze Zoller. He could not see Landa, who was sitting in the dark on the other side of Zoller. The desire within him for the brief physical pleasures of the evening to continue was painful. Hellstrom had had experiences with other men, but each and every one had been coloured by his tension and the fear of being caught. There was no shortage of males available to him, particularly in his senior position; he knew there were more than a few junior Schützes who were willing to be bent over a desk by their senior commanders in the hope of gaining favour and advancement.

Hellstrom was far too cautious a man to find his pleasures down this route. His experiences to date had been far from satisfactory; every encounter he had experienced with a man had been brief and frantic, eager to finish before being discovered. Hellstrom desperately wanted the opportunity to truly explore another man's body and have a partner with whom he could indulge equally in relaxed and passionate lovemaking. It had only recently occurred to him that he had never even had sex in a bed. Dark alleyways and public toilets had been the sites for most of his encounters.

Hellstrom was so wrapped up in his reminiscences that he didn't realise they had already arrived at Landa's townhouse. He entered the townhouse with the other guests, praying that Landa would gently make it clear from the onset that the gathering was to be brief.

Hellstrom was faced with yet more disappointment when he realised that, far from encouraging his guests to leave, Landa proved to be an exceptionally genial host who seemed to enjoy the spontaneous gathering. Ample amounts of champagne and whiskey were passed around along with some light refreshments for which Landa profusely apologised. "Had I known I was expecting such distinguished guests, I would have prepared more thoroughly!" he joked, soliciting a jovial response from his guests.

All were enjoying themselves thoroughly—with the exception of Hellstrom. He comforted himself with glass after glass of whiskey, trying to blot out the infuriating sound of Schütze Zoller chatting away, once again forgetting his rank and acting inappropriately relaxed and familiar in the presence of his superiors. Landa continued to top everyone's glasses and listened politely and attentively to what each person had to say, including Zoller, although Hellstrom thought he noticed a hardness in his eyes as he watched the Schütze speaking with unnecessary enthusiasm.

The night grew late and still no one seemed ready to leave. Cigarettes were lit and smoked, glasses were refilled and drained and yet nobody seemed to feel that it was time to bring the evening to a close. Landa was now deep in conversation with Goebbels, sipping champagne as they spoke together.

"So, can I assume that our secret guest has finally committed to attending the premiere?"

Goebbels smiled, mellowed by the alcohol.

"Hans, I think you already know the answer to that! Just make sure it doesn't get out to anybody, it is shocking how you think you can trust a man and then your secret spreads like wildfire."

Hellstrom found himself switching off from everything, indulging himself in feverish memories of what had happened earlier. He could still feel the hot wetness of Landa's moist mouth against his neck and the forceful probing of his fingers against his crotch. He gave a tiny shudder as he recalled those leather-clad fingers in his mouth, fingers which were no doubt capable of giving him considerably more pleasure.

"Mein Gott!" Goebbels suddenly exclaimed. "Hans, you are too polite to allow us to stay in your house until this hour! As enjoyable as this has been, I think it is time to leave."

He stood up and took the arm of his brunette translator, who stumbled slightly after such heavy drinking. Schütze Zoller was still alert and sober, and he followed Goebbels to the front door. Hellstrom trailed behind the crowd, assuming that he, too, was leaving. There hadn't been any sign otherwise from Landa. He felt depressed and disappointed, compounded by the knowledge that his consumption of both champagne and whiskey was likely to result in a hideous hangover the next morning.

Goebbels gestured to him with his left hand; Hellstrom's heart sank.

"My chauffeur will take you home, Sturmbannführer," he said.

"Reichsminister Goebbels, that is not necessary." Landa's smooth voice came from the back of the small crowd heading towards the door. Hellstrom almost stopped breathing altogether. "The Sturmbannführer lives at a considerable distance and in the opposite direction of your lodgings. At this late hour, by the time he arrives home it will be time to arise again. I have a spare room he can use for tonight, so please spare your chauffeur the trouble."

Hellstrom had to force a look of neutral gratitude which did not give away the frenzied excitement and panic he felt inside. Goebbels smiled, clearly entirely oblivious to Landa's motives.

"Most hospitable, Hans," he said. "You have seen Standartenführer Landa at his most generous tonight, Sturmbannführer."

"Ja, Reichsminister Goebbels," Hellstrom replied, his voice very slightly shaken. "And danke, Standartenführer Landa, for your hospitality."

Hellstrom avoided Landa's eye in embarrassment but regretted his actions immediately when his eyes instead locked with Frederick Zoller's. The Schütze had an infuriatingly smug and knowing look on his face, smirking with obvious suspicion about Hellstrom and Landa. Hellstrom felt his face burning with anger, his hands itching to strike that gloating face and wipe off the arrogance on Schütze Zoller's face once and for all.

He had no further time to concern himself as the guests left the house. Various farewells were bid and the car then sped off into the darkness. Although it was not his house, Hellstrom closed the front door as he was closest, feeling it was the polite thing to do. He turned around to face Landa and his stomach immediately knotted when he saw the lustful smile on his face and his burning eyes staring straight at him.

He began to step very slowly towards Hellstrom.

"I think the expression 'I thought they would never leave' is appropriate here," he whispered softly. "Next time I will issue my invitation in a much quieter voice."

Hellstrom tried to respond with a relaxed laugh but it came out slightly strangled through his tight throat. Landa drained the glass he was holding and placed it on a nearby table, still advancing upon Hellstrom, who had not moved from the front door.

"I cannot deny that playing host to Reichsminister Goebbels was fun," he said, "but at this very moment the only person I want in this house is you."


	4. Chapter 4

_I never was very patient so here is the final part of my Landa/Hellstrom slash!_

_For the final time, huge thanks to DeborahKLA whose thorough beta enhanced this story tremendously._

_Please feedback if you find time, I am writing more slash and would love to know what people think of this one._

_All characters are copyright of Quentin Tarantino._

_WARNING! This chapter contains explicit gay sex!_

* * *

With no warning Landa lunged forward, slamming Hellstrom painfully against the door and, grabbing his wrists, pinned his arms to each side. Hellstrom's cry of surprise was cut off as his mouth was caught against Landa's mouth, and he pressed his lips to Dieter's lips in a passionate kiss. Hellstrom's entire body felt weak, his knees sank slightly and his hands trembled. He had never in his life been kissed like this; Landa pressed his mouth against his so forcefully it was almost painful. He moved hungrily against Hellstrom's lips, as if unable to consume him quickly enough, his tongue entering his mouth and sliding towards his throat.

Hellstrom groaned against him and met his probing tongue with his own, cautiously reaching upwards to take Landa's face in his hands and nervously run his fingers back into Landa's thick hair. Landa returned the gesture by taking hold of the back of Hellstrom's neck, stroking the base of his hairline and pulling him closer to him, their bodies pressed firmly together. Landa shuddered gently as he felt Hellstrom's erection pressed against his thigh, and he rubbed slightly against Dieter's body to show the young man that he had responded in the same way. After what felt like hours, Landa finally pulled his mouth away, both of them gasping slightly for breath.

Landa smiled. "I have wanted to do that for quite some time," he said, panting slightly. He moved his hands onto Hellstrom's chest and pressed gently, his fingers finding the erect nipples through his jacket. Their eyes met.

"I don't believe this is the most appropriate place," Landa chuckled, gesturing at the door. "I think we should retire somewhere more comfortable." His eyes grew serious, and the feverish lust in his face made Hellstrom almost fearful of what the Standartenführer might have planned. Landa gently pulled him to the nearest room, which was a stylish sitting room. Hellstrom followed as Landa led him towards a large and comfortable looking sofa. Then he suddenly realised that this was where Landa intended to consummate their physical relationship. He pulled back and shook his head, not considering how Landa might react.

"No, please, not..." he stuttered, unable to complete his sentence.

Landa looked surprised and a steely glare came into his eyes.

"Is there a problem, Dieter?" he asked impatiently.

"Please, could we..." Hellstrom was again unable to finish his sentence. His whole body cringed in embarrassment. He gestured with his eyes to the ceiling, hoping that Landa would understand what he meant.

Landa looked momentarily confused before a sly smile of understanding spread over his handsome face.

"Oh, I see," he said with exaggerated understanding, making Hellstrom wince with embarrassment. Landa walked back over to him with an amused swagger. "I take it, Dieter, that you would prefer we continued this in my bedroom?"

Hellstrom didn't dare meet Landa's eyes, but he nodded sheepishly. Landa laughed.

"As you wish," he said, placing a hand on Hellstrom's back and leading him out of the room. He paused when he once again saw the pained expression on Hellstrom's face; the boy clearly had something he was trying to say.

"What is it, Dieter?" Landa asked, almost sounding concerned.

After so many years of lacklustre encounters, of fumbling and fleeting sex, Dieter could not bear to pass over the opportunity to express his desire for intimacy with a man he wanted so much. He wanted to tell Landa this, but he couldn't bring himself to speak the words. He was sure they would sound too needy and childish. He hesitantly planted his hands on Landa's chest and fingered the brass buttons of his uniform, feeling the warmth of his body and the intimacy he craved.

He heard Landa's breath grow heavier.

"I've never…" he started, "I just want...I need..."

His voice trailed off, and he cursed his inability to effectively express himself. Fortunately, Landa seemed to understand what he wanted.

"I see, Dieter," he said, so softly that Hellstrom had to strain to hear him. "Well, if you would rather do this slowly then you have come to the right man." He leant forward and whispered deep into Hellstrom's ear, playfully licking his earlobe as he spoke. "If you want, I can make this last for hours."

Hellstrom's pitiful moan of desperation gave Landa his answer.

Hellstrom half stumbled as he followed Landa out of the living room and up the stairs, his body shaking with tension, thrilled by the excited grin on Landa's face. He wondered if maybe he should have allowed Landa to ravish him on the sofa. He was unsure his nerves would hold out.

Landa opened a door at the top of the stairs and Hellstrom followed him into a bedroom. It was meticulously tidy and surprisingly sparse; apart from the large bed covered in pure white bedding there was a small desk with perfectly organised paperwork and a dressing table with drawers and three small bottles sitting on top. Landa gestured to his bed and Hellstrom perched on the edge, waiting to be told what he should do. His whole body was gripped with fear as Landa gave him a narrow-eyed look, cocking his head to one side.

"Not nervous I hope, Dieter?" he asked mockingly, smirking with pleasure at his rhetorical question.

Hellstrom didn't answer. He watched, unblinking, as Landa bent down and began to remove his own boots, never taking his eyes off Hellstrom's face. Once his feet were bare, he padded silently over to the bed and sat next to Hellstrom. He took his face in his hands, the playful amusement fading in his expression.

"Mein Gott," he breathed deeply, "you are so beautiful."

Hellstrom was overcome with lust as Landa kissed him hard, pushing him down onto the bed. Landa pulled Hellstrom's legs up so he was lying flat and lay between them, his hands forcefully touching and grabbing every inch of his body. Hellstrom's heart leapt as he felt Landa's hard erection rubbing against him. Landa's hands slid up his chest and began to unbutton his jacket. He tried to reciprocate and reached for Landa's buttons, but his hands were batted away. Landa quickly unbuttoned Dieter's jacket, removed his tie and swiftly undid his shirt buttons. Hellstrom sat up very slightly so that all three garments could be pulled over his head. Landa gasped with pleasure as he surveyed Hellstrom's naked chest, laying his hands flat on his taut flesh.

"You have a truly beautiful body," he said, stroking Dieter's clammy skin.

Hellstrom's excitement grew as Landa lowered his face to his neck, nipping the skin before moving down his chest. He ran his tongue playfully around Hellstrom's nipples before taking each one into his mouth and sucking and biting hard. He moved slowly down his stomach, kissing and biting the skin, leaving a light trail of moisture as his lips descended to his waist. Hellstrom closed his eyes and concentrated every fibre of his being on how wonderful it felt to be explored in this way.

Every touch and kiss Landa bestowed on him sent pulsations of joy through his veins. He gritted his teeth to keep himself from crying out as he felt Landa undo his trousers, slowly removing the material that covered the obvious bulge of his excitement. Landa suddenly sat up and pulled Hellstrom's knees up so he could remove his boots, throwing them onto the floor before returning his attention to his groin. He gently massaged Dieter's hard cock, smiling as he elicited a moan of pleasure from him.

"You're so hard for me, Dieter," he said. "Tell me what you want me to do."

Hellstrom hesitated, unsure what Landa wanted to hear. Their eyes locked and he could see that Landa was serious, his eyes staring in lustful anticipation. Hellstrom still failed to answer and Landa nudged him impatiently.

"What do you want me to do, Dieter?" he purred teasingly, stroking his cock again through his trousers as he spoke. "I want to hear it from your lips."

"Touch me," Hellstrom finally whispered.

"And what else?" Landa pressed on.

Hellstrom hesitated briefly before answering. "I want you to suck me."

He blushed and looked down in shame, as if his answer was a wicked confession. Landa laughed gleefully, clearly enjoying the humiliation he was inflicting.

"And what else, Dieter?" he asked, his voice almost shaking with the joy of provocation. "Tell me what else you want." His stroking became harder and more urgent. "Come on Dieter, tell me what you've been wanting me to do all day."

Hellstrom's sense of pride was no longer intact. He didn't care if his request sounded undignified.

"Touch me," he said urgently. "I want you to touch me and fuck me."

This was the sign Landa had been waiting for. With sudden aggression he pulled Hellstrom's loosened trousers off before doing the same to his underwear. His eyes ran hungrily over Dieter's naked body. Hellstrom suddenly felt self conscious under such a lustful stare. Landa got up from the bed and stood at the end, unbuttoning his own jacket and placing it carefully on the chair in front of his dressing table, followed by his tie. Hellstrom watched in desperate excitement as Landa slowly removed his shirt, revealing his firm torso and lightly hairy chest. He began to unbutton his trousers but stopped, perhaps thinking that Hellstrom had been treated to enough of his naked flesh for the time being.

Landa returned to the bed and pressed himself down onto Hellstrom's body, kissing him more violently now and running his hands over his naked skin. He moved quickly to Hellstrom's knee and began running his tongue teasingly up his inner thigh, occasionally kissing and nipping at tender pieces of flesh. Hellstrom was now shaking with excitement. His hands found Landa's head and his fingers ran through his hair; he was half tempted to force Landa's face into his groin. But he knew better than to try to control Landa's actions, and he waited in agonising anticipation as Landa's soft lips moved closer to his cock.

He let out a heavy groan of raw pleasure when he finally felt Landa's mouth kiss the very tip of his cock. He opened his eyes wide and watched in dazed awe as Landa slowly took him into his mouth and then deep into his throat. Hellstrom could feel light tears pricking at his eyes; his body had never experienced such ecstasy. He continued to stroke Landa's hair as the older man ran his tongue up and down Dieter's shaft, sliding it in and out of his mouth, his hands gently caressing his testicles and stroking the dusting of hair around the groin.

He felt Landa wriggle out of his remaining clothing, and he struggled to sit up and look; he had wanted to see Landa's naked body all day. Landa seemed to sense his wandering eyes and placed his hands on Dieter's chest, pushing him firmly back down, flat on the bed. He took him deep into his throat once more, sucking forcefully and running his tongue along the hard flesh. Hellstrom began to moan loudly as the painfully joyous physical sensation grew so strong it was almost too much to control.

Landa finally released the cock from his mouth and looked up smiling, licking his lips suggestively. "Turn over," he quietly ordered.

Hellstrom didn't argue. He turned over onto his stomach, parting his legs slightly in hopeful anticipation of what might come next. He sank his face into the coolness of the white sheets, luxuriating in the feeling of Landa's roaming hands stroking his neck, back and buttocks. Landa's hands suddenly hooked under his hips, pulling him slightly upwards and parting his legs further. Hellstrom wondered only momentarily what was happening when he groaned with raw pleasure as he felt Landa's tongue between his buttocks. In all of Hellstrom's short and frantic sexual history, he had never experienced such an intimate pleasure. He bit down on the sheets and screwed his hands into fists, his vision blurring as he focused on nothing except the firm tongue which explored his most intimate self. He tried to picture Landa's handsome face in his mind, imagine the moist lips and tongue sliding against his delicate flesh. He could feel the outline of Landa's features pressing between his buttocks; feel the soft tickle of his hair against his skin.

Just when Hellstrom thought he couldn't stand it any longer, he felt Landa's warm mouth move away from him. It was replaced with cold wetness as some form of liquid was worked against his entrance. He glanced backwards and saw a tube of lubricant in Landa's free hand. He shuddered with pleasure, knowing what would happen next. Landa slowly worked in the cold gel, let his fingers slide inside Hellstrom, grinning with delight at the moan of pleasure he elicited in doing so. Hellstrom was almost ready to beg again when he felt Landa's erection press against him.

"Ready?" he said playfully.

If Landa was expecting an answer he didn't wait for it. Hellstrom cried out from the searing pain and pulsating pleasure as Landa's throbbing cock pushed firmly inside him. He panted and breathed heavily, forcing his muscles to relax and accommodate the sudden invasion into his body. Landa, possibly sensing his slight discomfort, began to move very slowly, waiting patiently for the muscles to relax around him. As Hellstrom's body began to respond to Landa, the thrusts became harder and more purposeful.

"Oh, mein Gott," Hellstrom heard Landa gasp behind him. "You're so tight. I feel like I'm fucking a virgin."

Landa laughed slyly at his comment and began to push harder, sliding deeper into Hellstrom's body, eliciting a series of tiny gasps and moans from him. Hellstrom closed his eyes and braced himself. The increased urgency of Landa's trembling body rubbed his tender flesh raw. He could feel Landa's skin sliding against his buttocks and his face prickled with perspiration. As quickly as he had started, Landa suddenly withdrew, flipping Hellstrom roughly onto his back and gently lifting up his hips.

"Look at me" he gasped, his face flushed and his eyes full of need. "I want you to look deep into my eyes when you come. I want you to know who's fucking you."

Hellstrom nodded silently, gripping Landa's damp shoulders as he felt him moving again between his legs.

"I want you," Hellstrom whispered.

They both froze momentarily, the sudden affection and familiarity bringing things to a halt as they assessed the impact this change in their relationship might have on their working partnership. Landa looked at Hellstrom with puzzled eyes before smiling indulgently and responding.

"I want you, too, Dieter," he replied, resting his body flat against the young man and once again engaging him in a deep kiss.

Hellstrom's legs wrapped tightly around Landa's waist as he felt him again slide into his body, much more easily now that his muscles were so warm and relaxed. Their lips worked against each other and Landa gripped Hellstrom's hands tightly in his own as he began to thrust. Hellstrom wondered feverishly if it was possible to be any more intimate with another person, both their bodies combined in an intense union, every inch of flesh meeting the skin of the other. Landa gasped against his mouth as he began to grind his hips harder, the tip of his cock hitting Hellstrom deep inside as he tilted his hips up slightly to push himself in even further.

Hellstrom began to pant as the pace increased, Landa's cock penetrating him so deeply, every inch of his body aching as a pleasurable throb began to emanate from deep within his pelvis. He couldn't hold on any longer, and he came hard onto his own stomach, his eyes fixed obediently on Landa's so he could see the reaction of the boy he was fucking so hard. Dieter could sense that Landa was not far behind him and was proved right when with one final shuddering push Landa ejaculated hard inside him, filling him with his hot fluid.

Landa fell lightly onto Hellstrom's chest. Their bodies trembled together as they felt the last shudders of orgasm pulsate in their veins. Hellstrom felt the hard flesh deep within him slowly soften. Landa carefully pulled out, rolled off and onto his back, breathing deeply and releasing the scent of semen mingled with sweat into the air. Despite his exhaustion and the stunned disbelief pounding in his head, Hellstrom discreetly used the opportunity to look at Landa's body, particularly the thick cock which now lay flaccid against his groin, glistening in the aftermath of their passionate sex.

Hellstrom was desperately tired. The flesh between his legs ached slightly from the vigorous friction it had experienced. But he still had a burning question, something he needed to hear from Landa's lips.

"Standartenführer," he began earnestly but Landa's hand waved tiredly at him.

"Tomorrow Dieter, it can wait until tomorrow," he said, before reaching out to the young man and drawing his hot, feverish body against his own.

Hellstrom sighed with deep satisfaction, inhaling the scent of Landa's body. Tomorrow it would be.

_**END**_


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